


Thank goodness for Vegard

by minolyn



Category: Ylvis
Genre: Anxiety?, Fluff, I don't know how else to tag this, Or not, Valle, it's left open to interpretation they could just be best friends in this one, um idk man, whatever tickles your fancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 02:24:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2451191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minolyn/pseuds/minolyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Calle lost the Gullsjansen contest and as a punishment has to improvise a blues song about Elvis Costello's face. Thank goodness Vegard was there or he might have crumbled under the experience completely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank goodness for Vegard

He’d actually been told what the punishment would be during the screening of Mr. Toot, and his reaction then was not as collected as it was when it was revealed the audience several minutes later. Of the three of them who could have gotten this punishment, Calle dreaded the idea the most. Bård chuckled and shook his head, Vegard had started to laugh too, but the moment he met Calle’s terrified eyes his smile wilted and was replaced with a look of genuine sympathy.  
“Come on now, Calle, it’s not that bad! We’ve done song improv before.” Bård said while keeping his eye on the audience to monitor how they react to Mr. Toot.

Yes, but never on his own like that. Not without either of them to lean on. Calle’s mind reeled in attempt to prepare as much as possible for this torture with what little time he had left. He still didn’t know what the subject of the song was going to be, so he couldn’t make up words yet, which was of course the hardest part. And he couldn’t take a lot of time with it either, he knew, because the show was running short on time as it was.

“Do you know a blues riff?” Vegard asked him quietly.

“Yeah, one.” He replied, his eyes shifting from Vegard’s, to the audience, to the floor and back again.

“Okay, good. Don’t worry too much about it, it doesn’t even have to rhyme, people know it’s live.” Vegard placed his hand on the back of Calle’s neck and squeezed lightly. The blue eyes pleaded with the brown.  
 _Make it go away, help me think of some way to not have to do this._

“Okay, let’s all get up to the front now.” Bård said as the song was coming to an end,  “...Get this disaster over with..”

“In ten minutes this is all behind you.” Vegard reassured close to Calle’s ear and let go of his neck, taking his place next to his brother. Calle followed him and stayed close as the introduction to his punishment began.

_Smile, Calle._

It was more of a grimace really, but he mustn’t let on how much this troubled him. This was a comedy show, after all. He should look troubled, but not too troubled. When Magnus delivered the news again, now in front of everyone, he was ready, but still struck with the finality of it. There was no changing the plan now, he had to go through with it. Vegard did everything he could, rubbing his shoulder with one hand across his back, half hugging his arms, any kind of reassuring physical contact he could get away with while still laughing and smiling to keep up the show. In all honesty, Calle just wanted to curl up in his comforting arms and hide, but this was all he was going to get before this shit’s over with, he knew.

It was time. He slapped on the sarcasm, plastered on the unnatural grin and took his seat in front of none other than Elvis Costello, who made it anything but easier with his superior stare. It was bad enough he had to improvise a song on the spot (which he felt he was terrible at) but to do it right in front of such a huge international music legend…

“Larsen, how are you feeling at the moment?” He heard Bård ask behind him. Well, at least the truth was a good answer this time.

“Small.” He said, looking straight into Costello’s eyes, taking comfort in the fact that the man understood next to nothing of what they were saying. If only he could get away with singing the whole thing in gibberish.

“Very, very, very… Very small.”

A reminder of the time crunch sounded in all of their earpieces, and through his teeth Vegard got Magnus to move it along. Calle still didn’t know what he had to sing about.

“I would like you, to sing a blues… about my face.”

 _Alright. That’s fairly simple._ Calle thought to himself. he could just name random parts of his face and attach adjectives to them. He might have been able to pull this off after all. But no such luck. Right on the very first line, Calle made the mistake of locking eyes with Costello and lost track of the melody he had prepared in his head. Now he was just wasting more show time.

_Nevermind. Pick it up, get through it._

At last, Calle started singing and felt self hatred and embarrassment grow in him with every word that came out of his mouth. The back of his mind was uselessly screaming _“HELP!”_ , blocking any actual useful words he could be singing from reaching his mouth, which was having trouble remembering pronunciation anyway. Eventually, he decided it was too hard to keep thinking of different body parts. he’ll just focus on his nose and pray Bård will stop him soon.

“Calle Hellevang-Larsen, ladies and gentlemen!” _Oh, thank fuck…_

Immediately he apologized to the musical giant he surely just tortured, turned around and let out a yell that was just a fraction of the stress and frustration built up inside of him. He saw Vegard looking ahead at the camera and the intense need for his affection hit him like a two ton piano. Suppressing the urge to smash the guitar and run away screaming, he set it down extremely slowly and carefully, then headed along with Costello towards Ylvis and Magnus on the raised platform while Bård went through the ending speech.  
Before he could stop himself, he grabbed Vegard’s arm and clung to him in a tight embrace, which he reciprocated right away, bless him. Vegard laughed and ‘aww’d at him, but he didn’t care, he was too busy being grateful for it being over, for feeling the warm reassurance of his body, and for having his support since his knees were trembling beneath him.

“But you did really well!” Vegard said as they came apart and the credits music blared across the theater. Calle said nothing and just rubbed his eye, his finger coming off a bit wetter than usual.

He knew Vegard wouldn’t be able to come with him at this point, he had to stay on stage while the credits rolled, and strictly speaking so did he, but he had to get away. He needed to not be in front of an audience anymore, to not be within eyeshot of Elvis Costello ever again. He needed to smoke, bad.

 

\--

 

Halfway through his second cigarette on the balcony of the fire escape backstage, Vegard joined him.

“Well, thank goodness that’s over.” He sighed and leaned on the railing beside him. Calle shook his head in agreement and brought the cigarette back to his lips.

“Of all the punishments you could have landed on..” Vegard continued, “You really handled it well, though.”

“Did I?” Calle scoffed, “Because it really didn’t feel like it!”

There was a pause in which Calle could peripherally see the short man smiling at him, and then he said, “felt like.. what is it you call it? Like fucking bad TV.”

“Nah, it was great TV!”

Calle looked at him skeptically, “Was it?”

“Of course it was. It wasn’t supposed to be perfect, it was supposed to be funny, and you’ve achieved that.”

Calle half smiled as his eyes lingered on his dear friend’s face. Then he lowered his gaze to the street below and laughed at himself, “I thought I was going to cry.”

Vegard chuckled and put an arm around him, squeezing and shaking him lightly, “I can’t believe how self conscious you are about this with all the ridiculous and embarrassing shit you do on a daily basis without batting an eyelid.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” he conceded.

They leaned on each other comfortably for a minute until Vegard sighed, tilted his head up and pressed his lips against Calle’s temple, “Okay, I’ve got to go meet some international fans. See you later?”

“Sure.” Calle smiled at him warmly and watched him climb back into the building through the window. Trust Vegard to be able to make him feel better about such a horrible experience.


End file.
